


Scratch That Itch

by bloodyidolla



Series: Beauty's Angst Collection 2020 [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Cutting, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, author is simply venting, implied billdip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyidolla/pseuds/bloodyidolla
Summary: An addiction, that's what his therapist had called it. Dipper had to disagree, cutting wasn’t a drug, how could he be addicted? He knew, deep down he knew he needed more help than what he was crying out for, why else would he make such excuses?
Relationships: Bill Cipher & Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines
Series: Beauty's Angst Collection 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973815
Kudos: 31





	Scratch That Itch

**Author's Note:**

> this is a vent piece, projecting myself onto Dipper.  
> follow me on tumblr, my ask is open for potential requests. 
> 
> https://bloodyidolla.tumblr.com/

It itches.

_Scratch._

I can't.

_But you want to._

Dipper paused, the demon’s voice clear as day in his mind. He clenched his toes, his fingers, deep breaths to calm down right? Surely that's what his therapist had said. 

But Bill was right, he wanted to scratch that itch. 

Dipper liked to collect stationary, that was his excuse. He had many blades to choose from, large and small all from the various pencil sharpeners he had. It wasn’t exactly a lie, stationary did have a certain aesthetic appeal to it. 

It started with simple curiosity. A voice in the school hall beckoned him toward such a destructive habit. He took the bait. 

An addiction, that's what his therapist had called it. Dipper had to disagree, cutting wasn’t a drug, how could he be addicted? He knew, deep down he knew he needed more help than what he was crying out for, why else would he make such excuses? 

_You know it will make you feel so much better._

It would. 

His delicate fingers were careful, twisting his blade of choice free from it’s fun plastic covering. His parents thought he was getting better, Mabel thought he was getting better. He couldn’t act so carelessly now. 

He wiggled his hips free from his jeans, the skin under his briefs had always been left untouched, not anymore though. 

The first cut had always been the most painful, a sharp inhale as he sliced at his skin. 

Just one more.

Just one more.

Just one more. 

Just one more. 

Just.

One.

More. 

He cleared his throat. He would not truly feel the burn yet however. Reached toward the tissues on his bedside table he carefully folded one, settling it over his open cuts to collect the blood he had spilt. 

He would live of course, it was never his intention to die when he did cut, not so soon anyways. He wasn’t even sure if Bill would let him go that easily. To the demon suicide was probably hilarious though, so maybe he would. 

_Oh my dear Pine Tree, did you scratch that itch?_

Yes.

_All better now then?_

No. 

Never.

It itches. 


End file.
